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After writing this it dawned on me that judging is not always negative. However, in this post, please assume all references to judging are meant negatively.

I found myself judging people recently. I touched on this a couple of weeks ago when I posted on Kindness. I realized just how much people judge others. I don’t think many of us mean to, it just happens. There is something, someone does, that simply doesn’t mesh with what you believe in, and, let’s face it, gossiping is so easy. Often I find myself not having anything in common with someone I’m forced to talk with except for out dislike of someone else, this often leads to gossip, does that happen to you guys?

In Buddhism, one of the Eight Fold Path is “Samma vaca: Right speech: No lying, criticism, condemning, gossip, harsh language. Right
Speech involves abstaining from lying, gossiping, or hurtful talk.” I find this very hard to follow. In further teachings, one is taught that you much have Right thought: This goes one step further than Right Speech, you don’t simply not talk ill of someone, you don’t even have that thought. Now that is something to aspire to! If I have to do that one to obtain Enlightenment, I probably won’t be getting there any time soon.

In Christianity, the Bible states in Matthew 7:1 “1“Do not judge, or you too will be judged.” (there are several other mentions of judging people, but the all pretty much repeat what Matthew has said here or they have expounded on it. You can find out more here.

In Islam, Allah said : “O you who have believed, avoid much [negative] assumption. Indeed, some assumption is sin. And do not spy or backbite each other.”, among other verses that condemn judging others.

If being non-judgmental is taught by so many religions, why is it common practice amongst almost everyone one? Heck, most religions judge other religions and their followers. I don’t know if it’s even possible to go through life never judging anyone, but wouldn’t it be a much better place if we could. I doubt I’ll ever get there, but I am going to try my best to not gossip; well, I might bitch a little to Stuart just so I won’t hold explode, but other than that, I will try…I can’t promise, but I’m going to try.

(I mean how could you not judge someone who signs a car financing agreement without looking at how much the car cost? She’s either stupid, or lying. Since moving to Tucson I’m listening to this kind of thing a lot, I’m judging, and it’s stressing me out big time! I’d go so far as to say, it’s making me sick. What am I going to do? The judging seems to be automatic, that guilt is causing enough stress, add to that the stress of feeling like I shouldn’t talk about it, I’m wound up tight as a tick! (if you aren’t from the South, you can find out what they means here. Suffice to say, pretty darn stressed)

Don’t judge yourself by your past. You don’t live there anymore. ~Unknown

The world would be a happier, more peaceful place if we all tried to understand instead of judging, paused before reacting, and gave each other the benefit of the doubt instead of assuming the worst. ~Lori Deschene

Please don’t judge people. You don’t know what it took someone to get out of bed, look and feel as presentable as possible and face the day. You never truly know the daily struggles of others. ~Karen Salmansohn

Aqua Caliente by Wendy Holcombe Hmmm, I’m judging these oranges to be beautiful. Funny how an adjective that change the meaning of a word, isn’t it?

I’m still not able to type much, a lot of hunting and pecking with just my left hand, but I’m managing to do a little. My wrist has not improved, the shot did not work, I go back to the doctor on July 2nd (which just happens to be my birthday). Wish me luck.

Welcome to our home. The top photo isn’t very good, but it’s of the front gate. The middle row from left to right: the front porch, the pool off the right of the house, the kitchen over looking the living room. the bottom row, left to right: the bathtub/shower, flowers from my neighbor, the sick in the bathroom.

When I first visited Tucson I wondered why so many houses had bars on the windows and walls around their homes, well I found out. The bars are because so many houses eight used to have, or still have, a Swamp Cooler. For a Swamp Cooler to work, you have to have the doors and windows open. So it’s not because the whole town has a lot of crime, it’s a deterrent for when people have the Swamp Coolers going. (Swamp Coolers cool by adding moisture to the air, it’s really cool actually. but it only works in places with no humidity). The walls are often added if you have a pool. It is also a law that if a window in your house can open and it opens out to the pool, it must have bars. The pool must also have a gate that locks, or has a latch way out of reach for a child.

The house we live in was built in 1943, I think the realtor said, that surprised me since that was a time of rationing. The bathroom was tiled in the 1970’s, the owner loved Fiesta-ware and the tiles were bought to kinda match that. I love it!! The kitchen was also tiled like it at some point, but they remodeled the kitchen not long ago and the cool tile went bye-bye. You can see the new stove in the tiny kitchen, and the tiny living room beyond that. The living room is so small we had to get rid of our couch, and the dining area is so small we couldn’t fit a regular size table in it. Too bad, because the house is pretty cool other than the tiny rooms, if they were bigger we would consider buying this house, but it simply won’t work, so we are on the hunt for a house to buy that meets our needs. This property also has a guest house, which would be perfect for us when Dad moves in, but as I said, the main house just doesn’t work.

There are many suns all around the outside of the house, that’s kinda cool.

I took a walk around the neighborhood the other day and I saw all these cactus! The barrel cactus, the paddle cactus, prickly pear, and the big daddy of all the Saguaro. (you might not be able to tell from the photo bur the Saguaro has blossoms (well buds or dried of blossoms anyway), they don’t bloom every year so this was a treat.

These photos are all from around the house. I especially like the last one.

I hope you have enjoyed the little trip around my new digs. I have a few shots from the trip across country if you’d like to see them let me know and I’ll post those too. 🙂

*all photos were taken by me, W. Holcombe, please do not use without permission.

Wendy chose the theme: thankfulness; appreciation and gratitude to highlight what a Mindfulness Turkey Day should be. Of thankfulness for what we have tangibly, but most importantly, for those intangibles: the fairy dust; the miracles; the possibilities; grounded in our moments; spreading hands and hearts. Appreciating the touch of a hand; a donation to a food bank; thankful for the moment with friends; aware of the needs of others; and appreciation on the need for us to help.

This Saturday is giving Saturday at my local library. I am thankful I am able to provide some tangible help: toys and books for children and clothes for their mothers.

Wendy has a nasty migraine making working on the computer right now feel deadly, so I stepped in to help – what are friends for? Please send her messages of support as she deals with yet another round of migraines, cluster headaches, vertigo, and back pain. She got so far, but needed to rest her eyes. I so understand, so here I am offering up quotes about thankfulness, appreciation and gratitude. But I would pose we should think of “thinkfulfness” – the ways in which our minds wrap their synapses around the mindfulness approach to living – including celebrations of ourselves, friends, families, and perhaps through donations, or volunteer work

So, I searched beyond my usual sorts of quotes (with Wendy’s assistance), and have more than Wendy’s usual three. These resonated with me in terms of thankfulness, appreciation and gratitude. A cornucopia, and over abundance of meditations on gratitude, thankfulness, and appreciation. I was unable to post Wendy’s lovely image; instead an unedited collage of my back yard.

“I would maintain that thanks are the highest form of thought; and that gratitude is happiness doubled by wonder.“ G.K. Chesterton

And to end on a musical note: a song discovered by a search that seems to fall within the theme of thankfulness.

Josh Grobin: Thankful

Somedays, we forget to look around us,
Somedays, we can’t see the joy that surrounds us,
So caught up inside ourselves,
We take when we should give,
So for tonight we pray for,
What we know can be,
And on this day we hope for,
What we still can’t see,
It’s up to us, to be the change,
And even though we all can still do more,
There’s so much to be thankful for,
Look beyond ourselves,
There’s so much sorrow,
It’s way to late to say, I’ll cry tomorrow
Each of us must find our truth,
It’s so long overdue,
So for tonight we pray for,
What we know can be,
And everyday, we hope for,
What we still can’t see,
It’s up to us, to be the change,
And even though we all can still do more,
There’s so much to be thankful for,
Even with our differences,
There is a place we’re all connected,
Each of us can find each others light,
So for tonight, we pray for
What we know can be,
And on this day, we hope for,
What we still can’t see,
It’s up to us, to be the change,
And even though this world needs so much more
There’s so much to be thankful for.

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I found this wonderful post on Honor Yourself Now. It’s for everyone, not just us chronically ill peeps. There are some things you may have to adjust depending on your abilities.

For example, I can’t exercise. But I can couch dance to something silly on the TV, I can sometimes go downstairs, or just walk around the room. That’s moving it for me, I’ll even sing in my head – “You’ve Got to Move IT!” (don’t you love that song from Madagascar?

I do try to laugh each day, really I don’t have to try, my husband and I are pretty silly. That’s a big for me. I believe in not being too serious about things all the time. Seeing the levity in a serious situation has gotten me though a lot of hard times.

So take care of yourself!! I say, take some time and pamper yourself a little too.

The anniversary of my mother’s death was June 23rd. I simply cannot believe it’s been 20 years since my mother passed away. Cancer is not prejudice it will attack anyone at any time.

Having such a hard time with Asthma lately has brought back some dark memories of watching my mother fight to breathe…… Lung Cancer is an ugly way to die. If anyone who is reading this is a smoker, I beg you to stop. If you don’t want to do it for yourself, please think of those who love you.

OK…enough of this…it’s not how I want to remember my mother.

My mother was a marvel. She hated to cook, yet she could make a feast out of next to nothing. Growing up I didn’t realize we had less than others, I actually thought we were well off, but as I look back I realize just how much that was because of my mom. She was the ultimate in reusing things, and she’d never heard of “Reduce, Reuse, Recycle”. She even had a compost pile, before anyone knew what to call it. She was raised that way, and now I live that way.

She was one of the only people in my life….before my husband….who accepted me just the way I am. She believed in me. I believe she is the only one who believed I would graduate from college. I did it! With honors! She was not surprised….I think she was the only one.

I went to a college that was just a little over an hour from home. One morning before my classes I talked to my mother and told her how much I missed her banana pudding, when I got out of class and came back to the dorms my mother was waiting, with a huge dish of banana pudding. She was always surprising me.

She grew up on a tobacco farm (so. of course. she became a smoker), she didn’t experience much while growing up, even when she was a young adult she really didn’t know much about the world. I don’t mean she was naive, she simply had the heart of a little girl, but the inner strength of Super Woman. We would go places and she would be so awed by the sites. I shared my love for art with her, and she soaked it in.

Amazingly, my mother never graduated high-school, dropping out in the 6th grade to care for her ailing grand mother, who was raising her. She also didn’t know ho

Head Shot of my mom.Christeen Hutchins (Moore-Calloway)

w to drive until after I was born, and didn’t have a pair of blue jeans until she was in her 50’s.

I remember going to the library with her. She was so intimidated at first, but soon she was deep in the words, looking up things she had been interested in, but never had the nerve to research them. I remember when she got a Camaro, this woman who didn’t drive until her late 30’s loved speed….but she was very careful. Until she backed into a mail truck, but that’s a different story.

She may have gotten her first pair of blue jeans when she was in her 50’s, but after that you couldn’t get her out of them. She loved jeans. Almost as much as she loved pizza!

I don’t think she had pizza until I was a girl. She was thrilled when the cheese would leave a string from the slice to her mouth. I once heard her say she could eat pizza hot or cold, for breakfast, lunch, or dinner. And she liked everything on it!

I mentioned how strong she was, one day on her way home she was attacked and she fought of the attacker by grabbing a rock and bashing him in the head. For days she looked in the paper to see if she had killed him. No notice, but the attacks in the area stopped. She always wondered. Her first marriage ended in tragedy. Her husband had a meeting one evening, he asked if she and their one year old daughter wanted to come, but my mom said she needed to wash diapers. Hours later she found out he hit ice on a bridge and ran off into the water. He drowned. My mother was suddenly a single mother, with no income. She moved in with her mother, went to cosmetology school, and started a life for her and her daughter. Then she met my dad…and the story goes on.

We had such a very special relationship. I do miss her ever moment. I’m so honored to have been raised by such an amazing woman!

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For months now…oh about six…I haven’t had the desire to do much. Blogging always helped me deal with things and I’ve found support here I never thought possible…but I just haven’t felt like it. I’ll think about blog posts, write them in my head, but then in the day I don’t get out my computer and get in touch with the world. I keep thinking I’m snapping out of it, and I am better…and I do think I’m pulling myself out of this depression now, but it was there sitting on my shoulder, whispering in my ear “What’s the point?”

It’s almost 6 months since Sandy died, and I’ve been consumed with grief and guilt. I know I don’t have a reason to feel guilty, but all the “should have, would have, could have” questions kept swimming around in my head. Those kind of questions don’t do any good at a time like this, but they’ve been surrounding me…all the “What if’s…”

Sandy….Happy Dog!.

I still expect to see her, and occasionally, out of the corner of my eye, I could swear she was there. I will feel her on the bed, and nothing is there. There have been times I could have sworn I heard her. (Now I wonder how many times I heard noises and thought they were her and they were something else?)

A lot of people would not understand this deep grief I feel for the loss of my dog. But she was more than just a dog to me…she was a constant companion for 19 years, my Baby Girl, my Sugar Plum Fairy…or as Stuart would call her, our “Stinky Dog”. No Sandy wasn’t a Stinky dog. It is a term of endearment from my husband, if he makes up a little song about you and it says you are stinky then he must love you dearly.

Stuart and (his Stinky Dog) Sandy (taken early April 2012)

Because of this lack of understanding, and the feeling within myself that I shouldn’t feel like this still, I’ve been feeling very alone with these emotions. I hid a lot of it from Stuart for a while, but recently I haven’t been able to.

Two nights ago, I had a complete breakdown. Nothing sparked it, nothing. I was just about to doze off, and it started. I ended up crying (read sobbing uncontrollably) for almost two hours. Since then I have felt a release. I’m still crying over her, but something broke during that night of gut wrenching sobbing. I feel freer from the guilt than I have, I feel like I can move on….that doesn’t mean I’m forgetting my dearest Sandy Girl and everything she means to me, but I hope it means I can begin to see the sun again. I’m kicking that little guy off my shoulder, he will no longer be able to whisper those disparaging words to me. I love Sandy, and always will. I know I did the best I could for her, even if i do question that sometimes. More so, I question if the vet did the best she could have done for her, but I need to let that go too. (However, Max has a new vet now.)

Sandy and Max checking on me in bed.

I know she was 19 1/2. That’s amazing I’m told. But just days before she died she was chasing the cat, curling up with me, and just such a happy dog. I remember how every time she ate her dinner she wagged her tail the whole time. I need to think more about the good memories, and remove the shroud that has been over me holding in just the memories of her last days. Sandy brought me too much love to dwell on the tragedy of her death.

I won’t make promises that I will be here more often, but I think I will be….I need to get back to my friends, and managing my life, instead of allowing it to manage me.

(there may be many errors in this post, I just can’t read it again right now.)